


Like Flying

by cimorene



Series: Just Like Verse [3]
Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Beach Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimorene/pseuds/cimorene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiba would happily discuss anything, usually, but there's not really a Hallmark card for this. And discussing things with Jun can be tricky at the best of times, while Aiba has lots of practice at handling him without discussing anything. Also, he's not even sure what he would say. Sometimes he entertains himself by thinking up things - "I like when you gently touch my kneecap with your finger, when we're lying somewhere and not talking, even more than I like baby animals, or playing a concert, or beer"? Or how about "I always think about you when I'm naked", or even better, "I think you should be naked more often, don't you"?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Flying

"Fuck you," Jun is affectionately saying to Sho, "Who are you to turn down Nino and Ohno's island paradise?"

Ohno doesn't look up from his Gameboy, but Nino half-heartedly kicks out at Jun; which doesn't make sense to Aiba, frozen in the doorway with his bag halfway off his shoulder by meeting Jun's eyes, warm and sly, until he realizes that Jun must have been making fun.

"I'm very sorry, Ninomiya-san, but indoor plumbing is a must on my vacations," says Sho with a little bow, playing along, and Nino makes as if to kick him too. He doesn't get out of the armchair that he's lying diagonally in with his foot in Ohno's lap, so he can't reach.

"I wanted Captain to myself anyway," says Nino.

"Okay," says Ohno, without looking up from his Gameboy, or twitching when Nino's heel thumps against his chest, "aren't we having indoor plumbing?"

"_Desert_ island," says Nino patiently, and flicks Ohno's ear.

Ohno nods and bites his lip. His thumbs move fast; he is probably leveling. "Okay," he says again, and Nino smirks smugly, even though he's just succeeded in spending several minutes on an entire conversation about nothing at all, because Aiba is fairly certain that their manager won't let even Nino or Captain go on vacation to an actual desert island, and if he _will_ let them, Nino is the last person Aiba can imagine going on vacation without at least a nice roof and floor, so he can nap in the shade, and a very good privy, if not actual plumbing, even if you assume that he would be _less_ lazy in order to be with Ohno and not _more_, which is how he usually is (because Ohno absent-absentmindedly babies him, and he likes it).

"Is your shoulder okay, Aiba-chan?" says Nino, and Aiba realizes that he is still standing frozen with his elbow sticking out from his shoulder and his bag lifted halfway off over his head. So maybe Nino was just smirking at him after all. Okay.

"Yeah!" chirps Aiba, and drops the bag on the big, fat footstool next to the door. "Hey, this is a nice room! Hi, everybody."

Sho says hi, Ohno blinks and smiles, and Jun's grinning at him, a kind of goofy grin showing his teeth that reminds Aiba of how he used to look when they were children, and Jun was so small, all of him except his big head and his huge brown eyes. He is lounging on only one half of the loveseat, and it's natural for Aiba to drop himself on the other half while Jun says to Sho, "Really? What plumbing is going to be graced by your visitation this spring?"

"_Not_ a bed and breakfast and I'm _not_ going surfing," says Sho firmly.

Jun shrugs, "It's not like I need help to surf."

Aiba frowns at this reminder of his own ruined vacation plans. He slouches down into the back of the loveseat and pouts with his lips. "I can't go parasailing after all! The renter can't meet my schedule!"

And that is how Aiba ends up on vacation with Jun for almost a whole week in Okinawa, at a modern but homely little bed &amp; breakfast, sharing one room. It really has nothing to do with the way they've been making out every chance they can get when no one's looking (which is not very often) and the way that Aiba slept over at Jun's apartment two nights in a row last week and certainly not with the way Jun blows Aiba in the restroom after filming, although that is the most turned on Aiba has possibly been in his _life_ and he had no idea he would get off on maybe being caught. No, the blowjob was nice, but the whole vacation thing was settled beforehand in the greenroom, and it just kind of happened that way. Nobody would think anything of it, and anyway, Aiba really had wanted to go parasailing.

It wasn't his fault that his second choice vacation is destined, he is sure, to be one he will like much, much better.

Maybe too much.

  
[ § § § ]  


  
Aiba likes surfing, just like he likes anything where you feel like you're flying through the air. Although he would surely like parasailing better, because there is much more flying, and of course when you surf you're mostly flying through the _water_.

But the water is fun too, of course. It's cold and salty, and such a beautiful color, much bluer than the water Aiba usually sees on the coast in different places; and it picks him up like a doll when he falls off his bodyboard, and shakes him, smacks him in the face and flings him out on the sand. The taste of nori and minerals and pickle brine and probably octopus pee or something, all mixed together, fills his mouth with so many flavors its doesn't taste like water.

Aiba shouts with laughter and runs back into the waves. The sea is violent and inhuman, a huge, impersonal force of nature with energy and tension and life moving through it, making it gentle one minute, and then hard and fierce the next, holding on as tightly as big angry fingers. It's these currents of iron-hard tension that you have to seize, if you want to surf. It's their strength that lifts you and flings you into the air, if you want to fly. Aiba can't stay up on the board to save his life, but he enjoys falling off. Jun balances like a maiko, graceful on the surfboard like a tall pair of geta. Jun is constantly flying.

Jun is much better at surfing than Aiba. He surfs for hours, until Aiba has had time to read through his entire email inbox on his phone and taken a nap, and it's starting to get dark. Aiba's covered with goosebumps from a strong breeze when Jun flops on the sand in front of him, grinning tiredly and glistening all over with water, his body outlined in black from elbow to neck to knee by that wet suit Aiba has been dying to touch all afternoon. Even though the wet suit isn't even a centimeter thick and only outlines the same body Aiba already knows, it looks different in slick black than the creamy paleness of Jun's skin: like a sculpture, all smooth lines, broad, sharp shoulders and biceps round enough to bite into, the long dolphin-sleek muscles of his skinny torso trailing down to the thin hips that fit just like _that_ in the palms of Aiba's hands (a memory that's never far from Aiba's mind, and it's not _perving_ when Jun wants to be touched, right?).

"Ahhhh, owww," Jun sighs, turning his head sideways, so the wet snakes of his tangled hair splat onto the beach mat.

"Hurt yourself?"

Jun closes his eyes. "Not really - just got punched in the face by a wave too many times for one day."

"That mean you don't want to come back after dinner?" says Aiba slyly.

Jun laughs. "Night-swimming - what a great idea. Everything's more fun at night, don't you think?" He licks his lips and Aiba, still goosebumpy, feels another little shiver go over him, blood tingling into his groin. Then Jun slits his eyes open. "Did you say dinner?"

They shower quickly at the bed and breakfast and struggle, still damp, into their clothes from the morning. At least, Aiba does, but Jun puts on a totally new shirt, then a hat, and changes his shoes. On their way out of the room, he picks up the hoodie he was wearing on the train and hands it to Aiba. The breeze is blowing outside, so Aiba puts it on.

Aiba hasn't eaten at a barbecue pit restaurant for ages, and there's one right down the block from the b&amp;b. He drags Jun inside by the arm with a little squeak of joy - he loves barbecue - and doesn't even notice until they're inside that Jun isn't rolling his eyes at him like usual; instead he's linked his fingers with Aiba's - the entry is dim and a little crowded - and is smiling at him slightly, a gentle curl of his chapped lips and the same warm, friendly glow in his eyes that Aiba - it -

Aiba squeezes Jun's fingers and turns his face away, feeling his face smile automatically while he heats up from the inside out, quick as lightning, aroused and stupidly happy. Aiba knows it's stupid, but he never has been very good at saying No to Jun when he smiles like that with his eyes.

"You're not supposed to barbecue yourself," says Jun dryly. "Please, don't fall in the barbecue pit."

Aiba pouts a little, but he sits back on his cushion. "I love the way you can feel the heat from the coals around it," he explains. "It's so fun and cozy, like camping around a campfire."

"It's more like eating around a fire," says Jun, with an artistically bored tone, thrusting a bamboo skewer into Aiba's hands. "Because of the fact that this hole in the floor _has a fire in it_ and we _sit around it and eat._" He plucks a few pieces of tuna from the dish, then a circle of corn cob, and makes skewering them look much more professional and practiced than he has any right to, like applying mascara, or painting his fingernails, or curling his bangs, all of which are things Aiba could watch him do for at least five or ten minutes without getting bored. (Unfortunately, they actually take longer than this, and sometimes Jun gets mad being interrupted. Aiba has often wished they were alone, because it is much faster to get back in Jun's good graces via his cock than any other way.)

They're sitting at one corner of the pit, near a dividing wall that leads to the restrooms, and the glow of the fire, and the dark wood of the huge exposed beams, combines to create an atmosphere that is something like a campfire and something like a candlelit restaurant. The pits in the floor and the lanterns on the walls and ceiling cast a warm glow interrupted by lots of shadows; the nearest other eaters are sitting maybe a meter away on either side. Unusually, nobody's mother and nobody's camera crew is around. In other (less famous) circumstances, Aiba might take advantage of the situation to leave his hand on Jun's knee, after he touches it to get his attention; to lean in and lick the drops of beer from the corner of Jun's mouth.

"Masaki," says Jun in a low voice, "please stop _sucking on the corncob."_

Aiba tilts his head and looks at Jun sideways, and only smiles a little. "What do you mean, Jun-chan? Like this?" and he slides the end in his mouth and licks all the butter off with a swirl of his tongue. Really, most of it was gone already, because he's been teasing Jun with it for a while now.

"Yes, like that, or with that - spiral thing you do with your tongue - _or that_," he adds through gritted teeth. "Don't you know not to play with your food?"

"I'm not," says Aiba innocently. "I'm playing with _you."_ And bites down.

Jun puts his face in his hands.

"How about night-swimming?" says Aiba brightly.

The stretch of beach is deserted, and it might possibly be illegal for them to be here this late. The sand is still hot; the air is cool; in comparison the water is warm. "Come on!" says Jun, dropping his bodyboard in the sand.

Aiba picks it up, almost dropping his board in the process. "Matsujun! You forgot -"

He's not even looking, so he's completely surprised by the salty skin-warm finger on his lips. "Leave it." Jun's voice isn't exactly impatient, but urgent and low. Aiba looks up into his eyes, black and white and unreadable in the moonlight, and lets himself be pulled inexorably into the ocean.

Jun's hand on his arm loosens and lets go as the water laps up to his knees, his thighs in their wet suit, his crotch, up to his nipples. The water hums and roars, in and out, in and out, like the sleeping breaths of some huge monster. A few waves swell underneath them and they jump with them. Weightless in the warm water, cold night air on his face, rippling briny currents tickling his ankles, Aiba drifts into Jun's hands on each side of his waist. Jun's fingers close tight around him through the wet suit, anchoring them together. It's not really like wave-jumping with his brother when he was small, hand in hand; Jun is tied to the center of his body, and his arms are too strong for that. Aiba's hands stop floating in the water, and come to rest on Jun's hips, the trim swell of his ass in the black suit. Jun's hair is silver like the surface of the water, his eyes are black as ink, and the night sky itself is gentle, glowing dusky blue. A whitecap thunders over Jun's shoulder. Aiba jumps, and Jun jerks him closer as it breaks over their heads, tumbling them under water for an endless moment.

When Aiba's feet find the sandy bottom again he realizes he's wrapped Jun in his arms, holding on as tight as a sea monster or a riptide. Jun laughs, "I can't breathe, freak," and squeezes him back, licks lightly along his bottom lip and bites it until Aiba lets him in. He pushes his tongue in Aiba's mouth, slick and hot, lazy dominance, pressing his cold nose into Aiba's cheek and clinging to him. They let the waves carry them closer to shore, kissing and kissing even when the water shoves them to their knees in the sand.

When they stumble out of the ocean Aiba's skin is cold all over and coated in a fine dust of wet sand, but inside the suit he's boiling. Jun is inching the zipper down his neck just a few fingers and fastening his mouth on the hollow of Aiba's throat. "What are you doing?" Aiba gasps.

"Playing with you," whispers Jun, and peels the top of the wet suit back, exposing one of Aiba's nipples to the chilly air.

"Stop it," says Aiba, "come here, I can't reach your -" there. Finally he gets his hand on Jun's dick through the clammy, rubbery wet suit

Jun grumbles and grinds down on the thigh Aiba has somehow gotten up between his legs. "You're going to get pneumonia if we don't go back," he mutters, in a break from kissing Aiba's neck.

Aiba moans. "I don't care."

Jun snorts. "I feel you, but I don't think you want to come in the wet suit, either."

He has a point. Aiba picks up both boards and neither towel in a red haze of SEX! JUN! SEX WITH JUN!, and barely notices Jun slinging a damp towel around his shoulders as they sprint back to the b&amp;b in their flip-flops. They barely shake off any sand at the door, and head straight for the baths, where they peel out of the wetsuits gingerly in a deserted shower room. Clumps of wet sand fall out of them, more sand than Aiba has ever had inside his swimsuit in his life _put together_, probably.

"Aren't you glad we didn't?" says Jun, a little awestruck. There's enough sand for a cat box on the floor, and Aiba pulls down the showerhead to rinse it to the drain.

Aiba nods so hard his head hurts, muffling a giggle, and turns the showerhead on Jun. They rinse off fast and are in and out of the bath - which feels wonderful, but even alone in the room Jun and Aiba aren't going to make out in the public bath, because ew - and back in the room, door shut behind them, in ten minutes.

Jun is pink all over. "You need a haircut," he breathes, right before Aiba shoves his back up against the wall and kisses him. Jun grabs his head with both hands, tugging a little on his hair, and tilts his head around like he's looking for the right angle to crawl inside tongue-first. Which actually sounds totally gross and would probably be funny if Aiba weren't so turned on that he practically comes just from rubbing against Jun's thigh through the towels. He's too clumsy with SEX! JUN! SEX WITH JUN! to remember how to untie knots, and just sticks his hands underneath, sliding down Jun's smooth muscled stomach till he gets a handful of dick, and somehow, eventually, the towels are pushed out of the way and Jun is dragging him in by the ass and thrusting against his belly and then they both come.

Luckily, the towels are right there, so it's not hard to clean up. Aiba's bed is the close one, and he flops onto it like his muscles don't work anymore. A hotel yukata drops onto his head in a little cloud of fresh-laundry smell, and he struggles to turn it the right way, eyes half-open, and sticks his arms into it before burying his face in the pillow again.

  
[ § § § ]  


  
The next day they wake up early to the smell of breakfast from inside and the smell of the sea through their open window. They have okonomiyaki and fruit for breakfast and set out for the beach again. This time Jun has a sun umbrella and the biggest, sparkliest sunglasses this town has probably ever seen, and Aiba has a farmer's straw hat, a book, and an mp3 player. He dives through the waves for a while, but it's still early and cold, and he's a little sleepy, so he retreats to Jun's umbrella in the sand and stakes out a place in the shade with three towels (two of which are Jun's) and some bottles of water to weigh them down, and tilts the hat back off his face so it won't get in the way of his reading.

Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore are in the middle of a lake in an underground cave when Jun comes back and plops down in front of Aiba, showering him with chilly droplets and laughing. Aiba looks up at him, thin and bony-kneed, with his bird-thin shoulderblades and excited smile and his hair hanging wet and tangled around his face, and completely forgets what he is supposed to say, or that he is supposed to say anything, until Jun wrinkles his nose and raises an eyebrow mockingly. "Helloooooo, Aiba-chan?"

"Oh!" says Aiba, regaining the ability to speak (and starting off small), "hi," and marks his place in the book, shoving it back in his bag. Jun sits down with his legs folded in front of him and picks up the bottle of water that's holding the outer corner of his second towel. He drinks almost all of it at once, looking like an advertising photo, with the sun catching on one side of his face.

"You still haven't finished Harry Potter?" is the first thing he says when he puts it down again, lounging back on his elbows, smiling to take the sting out of it.

"I lost it for a few months in there," Aiba admits.

Jun rolls his eyes. "That's because Nino took it and read it again."

"I _thought_ I left it in on the coffee table!" This explains a lot.

"You realize there's a whole other book after that one, right?"

Aiba had actually forgotten that, but he does have the other book. Somewhere. He opens his eyes very wide and says "What? When?"

Jun rolls on his side so his cool, wet knee pokes into Aiba's thigh. "Last summer or something. Are you going to lie here all day? You could have done that at the hotel, you know. Unless you're already too tired out..."

Aiba can't let a challenge like that pass. It's a couple of hours later, way past lunch time, by the time they both come back out of the water after that, and that's mostly because Aiba says he's too hungry to stay. After a few hours of wrestling vigorously with waves that fight dirtier than a sulky Nino, Jun's hair is a huge mess of tangles glued together with salt. "Ow. Masaki!"

Aiba says, "You want a hand?" Jun looks impatient, and doesn't say a word, so Aiba moves around behind him and smooths the mess down with the flat of his hands, then separates the pieces carefully and finger-combs through it all. It's funny to think that for all the times he's run his hands through Jun's hair, and all the showers they've shared, he's never really done this before; Jun's hair is thick and heavy, stubborner than Aiba's and a little wavy, less springy. And longer, of course.

Aiba can hear and feel Jun breathing - the soft movement of his back, the warmth of his neck. It's hard to let go.

They wander through the streets for a while until they find a ramen stand, and then stop again for ice cream cones, but Aiba doesn't stop thinking about Jun's neck and how it tasted of salt last night - not until they're back at the b&amp;b, soaping the salt and sand off again, and Aiba leaves his shampoo to dart over to the next showerhead and taste Jun's neck before the flavor washes away.

"What, are you crazy?" Jun hisses, and drags him up, kissing him quick and hard on the mouth. "Someone could come in." Another kiss. "Rinse your hair."

Aiba knows it's a really stupid idea to make out in the baths, so he promises himself this will be the last one and darts in for a third kiss, holding on to Jun's shoulder to keep him still long enough to really taste it. There's a bit of soap in the taste, honestly, but Aiba doesn't mind that. And Jun's smiling when he pushes him away, so he probably doesn't either.

  
[ § § § ]  


  
The thing usually is, when Aiba and Jun have time to have sex, it's not very _much_ time. The fastest they ever managed was probably like two minutes, once, when they were already late to meet the rest of Arashi at a restaurant. A few times they've had a whole night, but it's not really a whole night, exactly, when you still know you have to wake up pretty early in the morning. So part of Aiba keeps checking out every situation they step into, like a thief casing the joint (he thinks; Aiba doesn't actually know any thieves. That he knows of), looking for opportunities: closets, bathrooms, doors, how long is this going to take, can he safely touch Jun under the table, can they hurry a little and make time -

\- but they don't have to make time because they have _whole days_. Being on vacation isn't new to Aiba, but having Jun, that is still very new. Part of Aiba keeps telling him that he's crazy every time he _doesn't_ drag Jun back to the room, and reminds him that he hardly knows anything about rimming, they could always use more practice with blowjobs, and he's got Jun and a hotel room all to himself all night, plus condoms and lube in his bag, and what was all that research on the internet for if they're not going to actually, finally fuck?

Not that he's discussed that, or anything, with Jun.

Aiba would happily discuss anything, usually, but there's not really a Hallmark card for this. And discussing things with Jun can be tricky at the best of times, while Aiba has lots of practice at handling him without discussing anything. Also, he's not even sure what he would say. Sometimes he entertains himself by thinking up things - "I like when you gently touch my kneecap with your finger, when we're lying somewhere and not talking, even more than I like baby animals, or playing a concert, or beer"? Or how about "I always think about you when I'm naked", or even better, "I think you should be naked more often, don't you"?

It gets really hot in the afternoon, and Jun and Aiba decide not to go straight back to the beach, but dress in summer clothes (Aiba) or brand new, perfectly-coordinated and accesorized clothes with a sort of Hawaii-meets-clubbing-librarian theme (Jun) and hit the town. There isn't much town to hit, which makes it a great place to go for a walk and a nice place to have a beach vacation, but provides little to distract Aiba from all the things he wants to be doing to Jun, like tickling his feet and wrapping his legs around Aiba's waist and biting the little knobs of spine that stick out down the center of his back and sucking his cock slowly until he can't beg anymore. And fucking him. Aiba has definite ideas about this. He wants to try it from on top, riding on Jun's cock, but he read that that can be hard (even though the doujinshi don't seem to think so), so he has an alternative fantasy with Jun on top.

When they go into McDonald's for dinner that night (the town is too quaint for McDonald's, but Jun decides that he needs french fries and doesn't even ask, and Aiba's craving milkshakes anyway), Aiba discovers that he's bought a bunch of postcards, some bandannas, and a carved wood bracelet, which he hardly remembers doing. (Jun has apparently bought nothing but two pairs of sunglasses.) His clearest memory of the afternoon is of necking for a few minutes and groping Jun's ass in a sheltered alcove with very good visibility outside the ice cream shack.

"I'm actually tired," Jun complains, when he finally sits down on his bed that night.

"That's normal right after you come," smirks Aiba, who is lying on his back diagonally across the other bed, and hasn't even had time to put his dick back in his pants.

Jun scoffs. "Not that. I mean tired out from today, even though we haven't been at work."

"Mm," says Aiba. "Gimme your laptop, I want to play computer games."

Jun digs his laptop out of the pocket in his suitcase and puts it on the bed next to Aiba's head. "It's hard to remember how to rest."

"I'd rather be tired from vacation," Aiba says, and turns on the computer. (Vacation is kind of code for SEX, but if Jun doesn't know that, he's not a guy.) He plays tetris while Jun changes into his yukata, perches his glasses on his nose, ties his hair up, and gets into bed with a newspaper. In spite of Jun's cuteness in glasses, and how Aiba has to keep looking up to check how far in the newspaper he's gotten, Aiba keeps playing until he's cross-eyed and yawning.

He closes the laptop and pushes it onto the table between the beds and falls back on the pillows, blinking up at the ceiling, until it occurs to him that Jun is _right there_, flicking over pages of newspaper and looking down his nose into his glasses the way he does when he's too lazy to push them back up his nose. It's probably the most charming thing he does, or at least the most charming thing Aiba can think of right now. So he gets up and sits on the edge of Jun's bed.

A moment passes; then Jun looks up at him, blinking. Aiba knows that in the real world he has manners, and you can't just take what you want and also it's usually nice to try a pick-up line or at least ask if someone wants to have sex with you. He's just not sure _what_ he should say, and he didn't bother to think of anything, and Jun is staring at him with a funny look on his face until...

Jun grabs Aiba and pulls him into the bed. It's sudden and sloppy, and he lands on top of Jun with an "oof", and Jun rolls him over onto his back and settles on top of him before he has time to say anything.

A pick-up line is probably pretty superfluous, Aiba thinks, since Jun is sucking on his earlobe.

"Did you bring lube and condoms?" he blurts.

Jun breathes against his ear for a moment that probably isn't as long as it seems to Aiba, anxiously wondering if he's accidentally offended Jun because it's kind of hard to read people when you're this turned on and can't even see their face because it's buried in your neck.

"Yes," says Jun carefully, against Aiba's ear.

Aiba gets his hands in the front of the yukata and pushes Jun back enough to look at him. They're both smiling, which he's sure is stupid, but makes him feel good. "Me too," says Aiba.

Jun shifts a little so he can prop himself on his hands, staring down at Aiba and incidentally straddling his crotch. "Wait, you too?" Aiba nods vigorously. "Damn."

"You've been thinking about it?" says Aiba.

Jun rolls his eyes, gestures between them, and, okay, that's a good point. "I figured you were as sex-starved as I was," Jun explains, "which was obviously a safe assumption."

"I could make it obviouser," Aiba muses -

"Obviouser isn't a word," says Jun -

" - If I got a neon sign or something. Maybe a t-shirt."

"You could not," says Jun. "It's obvious. You think about sex all the time. But the point is, there haven't been any good opportunities to take advantage of, until now. It's the obvious conclusion. It's just, sex is one thing - everyone likes sex - but I didn't know if you'd..."

"...Want to try actual fucking with lubes and condoms and you fucking my ass?" Aiba finishes for him.

Jun says, "Well, that's not how I was going to put it."

Aiba slides his hand up Jun's thigh under the yukata. It isn't necessary to tell that Jun is hard - you can see through the yukata, no problem - but Aiba just wants to do it, and finding Jun's cock, hot and erect and naked under all his clothes, is as awesome as he expects. "But it pretty much covers what you meant, right?"

It's hard for Jun to speak while Aiba's slowly jerking him. He has to swallow a couple of times first, and his face is all red and he's still wearing his glasses, which is... really doing it for Aiba. Maybe sometime Jun can fuck him wearing glasses and a girly hairdo and nothing else. Or maybe glasses and the hair and, like, women's shoes. Aiba could go for that. He'll try most things once. "Yeah," Jun pants, "but please don't make me come before I get the yukata off."

"Right." Aiba tips Jun off of him gently and hops up out of the bed. "You can cool off and get your erection under control a little - count to two hundred backwards or something - while I put my yukata on. You don't want to be too worked up in advance or you won't be able to fuck for too long, maybe. At least, from what I read, it's supposed to be really really hot and it can be hard to hold back. Unless it hurts! It can be possible that it would hurt if I was really, really tight. But we should be able to take care of that with lube, if we're careful."

Jun's eyes are closed. "Is your yukata on yet?"

Aiba hasn't even got his shirt off. "No. I haven't got my shirt off. Why?"

Jun sighs long-sufferingly and folds his hands in his lap. "Will you let me know when you're not naked anymore then, so I can open my eyes?"

Aiba laughs. "Are you sure you don't want to watch, Jun-chan?"

Jun squints one eye open, a little, and Aiba licks his hand and slides it down his belly and under the fly of his pants. Jun closes it again, scowling. "Don't!"

Aiba gets undressed quickly, after that, and slings the yukata on over his shoulders, even though they're just going to take it off again. He takes the lube and condoms out of his suitcase, too. "You can look," he says softly. Jun's eyes are squeezed tight behind his glasses. His yukata is still belted, but gaping open in the front.

Jun looks up at him. Then he licks his lips, and Aiba can't think of anything silly to say to defuse the tension. "You know how to do it?" Jun asks him, taking off his glasses, laying them gently on the beside table. He unties the knot at his waist without looking, without fumbling or dropping it or anything, and it's kind of sexy.

Aiba nods, and puts his knee on the edge of the bed. "Fingers - slow - lots of lube - " he says, and stops talking when Jun reaches inside the open yukata, sliding cool open hands up and down Aiba's back.

Then Aiba pretty much stops talking for a while.

He is tight, and it does hurt, right at first - more with the fingers, because it's so surprising, than later with Jun's cock, when he's so turned on already. It doesn't take very long before it feels good - Jun is bossy and careful and concentrates so hard, and Aiba can tell that he's nervous, but he tries to pretend not to be. And he's pretty self-controlled in bed, even though Aiba knows he thinks that he's not - Jun is embarrassed to let it out, but that's what makes him the hottest, it's what he wants most. Right now he's holding it in, being gentle and polite and fucking Aiba so slowly that he almost might not be turned on, if not for the way Aiba can feel it in every inch of him, tense along Aiba's back and hard and pulsing inside him.

And _that_ gets Aiba hot - the slow, agonizing pace, the tight friction that stops hurting and quickly starts to feel really really fucking good, hot and full and incredibly satisfying, making him want to beg for more. And then, finally, one slow, slick thrust finds the prostate - Aiba didn't tell Jun about it in advance, but count on Jun to find it anyway!

Aiba talks again then, but it's not really words. He doesn't even know what he's saying. And all he remembers, out of all the things Jun says, is, "Masaki, you're -." He never finishes.

"Did Sho ever tell you about Doumoto and the bus tour girl?" is in fact the next thing that Jun says to him. It's not a very sweet thing to say, but it's the way he turns and tilts his head, deliberately nudging at Aiba's cheek with his nose, and speaks so quietly - for Aiba's ears alone, if there had been anything or anyone in the world right now outside the bubble of the bed, where Aiba's thighs still feel like he's run a mile and his head is resting on Jun's pillow. The hotel bed, on top of the smell of laundry and under the fresh smell of spunk, smells faintly of Jun and his shower soap and many hair styling products.

There's a small, contented smile on Jun's face, and he looks sleepy, not smug, with his eyelids heavy and his eyes all sultry and inviting-looking. Aiba rolls over on his side, shifting under the blanket until his knee nudges against Jun's, and says that no, nobody has told him about Doumoto and the bus girl, especially not Sho.

Jun doesn't tell it to him, though; he just chuckles a little and says, "No surprise if no one tried to give the talk to _you_."

Aiba opens his eyes wide. "The talk? You mean - Doumoto and a bus tour girl like... ?"

Jun starts smirking without stopping his smile. Aiba has always wondered how he does that. "Oh, it's Sho's story," he says innocently, and then reaches over Aiba's head to turn off the lamp.

Aiba sleeps in Jun's bed for the rest of the vacation.

  
[ § § § ]  


  
The beach is full of so much sun that it's a miracle Jun doesn't get sunburned. Instead he just turns faintly golden and builds lots of surfing muscles, and Aiba reads the rest of _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ and surfs until he can keep it up for a fun amount of time without being flung off the board.

The town has lots of tea shops and cafes, and a store that sells tourist things like handkerchiefs, chopstick rests, and house and garden slippers, and a shop that sells nothing that doesn't have to do with sea shells. Aiba almost buys a giant solid pewter conch shell with a fairytale castle peak at one end and a big ruffly edge, until Jun asks him what the hell it's for, and he remembers that he doesn't need a conch paperweight. He buys a chain necklace hung with some polished pieces of something red and light green that looks like porcelain. They play miniature golf, and Jun writes harassing postcards to Nino. Aiba doesn't put the necklace on. He stuffs it in his suitcase.

On their last day in Okinawa, it rains in the afternoon. The black warning clouds pile up on the horizon and come racing in, chasing everybody out of the water. Even Jun, who says he wishes he could surf in a strong wind, isn't ready for the risk of lightning.

The rain is _cold_. It's windy too, and kind of gray, and people are vanishing into houses and cafes, or skittering under umbrellas, or making the 300-meter dash to their cars. Unfortunately there's more than that distance between Aiba and Jun and the b&amp;b, but they're sandy and salty and burdened down with bags and an umbrella, not to mention uncomfortable from making out in the toilets at the beach. So they go all the way back, not stopping for coffee or lunch like every other tourist seems to be doing, and it's a long run. Somehow it's a lot harder to be soaking wet in the street in a wet suit than soaking wet in the ocean in a wet suit Aiba will have to think about that later.

Their teeth are chattering when they make it inside, trying not to drip too much on the carpets, and Aiba grabs the first dry clothes he finds - Jun's yukata - and pulls it on with fresh socks and underwear, and starts to towel his hair vigorously, still shivering. "Bring the towel here - get under the covers," says Jun impatiently, and he's sitting there with his eyebrows raised, like he can hypnotize Aiba into seeing how silly he's being if he makes his eyes completely round. He's already pulled the duvet over his folded knees, and he's swamped inside a fleece sweatshirt with a white cat and a gold foil dollar sign on the front. "Bring the laptop!" Jun adds, and Aiba snags it off the other bed, which is covered in clothes.

He gives Jun the laptop and fusses around with the covers, tucking them in around him and nestling down in the bed. It's not actually that cold anymore, but Jun's staring at him, so Aiba executes a theatrical shiver.

Jun just rolls his eyes and scoots over until they're touching all along their sides and wriggles deeper under the blankets with Aiba. "Come _here_," Jun sighs, and pokes Aiba in the side until he can get his arm around him and cuddle up close to his chest. Aiba settles his head against the pillow. They watch DVDs on the laptop until the rain stops.

  
[ § § § ]  


  
No matter how you look at it, and no matter how carefully Aiba thinks back, they have never talked about what they are doing. Not that time in the restroom at a show filming; not that time in Ohno's coat closet; not that first time when Jun put his hands under Aiba's shirt and all over his body, and kissed him until he could barely breathe. They talk about going on vacation, about seeing each other later; they say thanks for the sushi; but the most they talk about, the closest they come to it, is when they talk about the sex.

So Aiba can say Mmm, that was hot, or You know, I love your mouth, or I'm so horny right now, or Fuck me in the ass. But if he wants to see Jun later - then he's back to the way he talks to everybody else. The difference is of course that he's not sleeping with everybody else.

They didn't even talk about Aiba's birthday; Aiba talked to everyone _else_ in the whole universe, it seems like, to get the time off and then to weasel his way on set at Utawara and drag Jun out of the dressing room early. The first he said to Jun about it was "Hi!" from Jun's dressing room couch.

So when Aiba wonders out loud whether they should go get ice cream once the rain has stopped and Jun says "Maybe", and then Aiba asks if they should just make out instead and Jun says _"Yes,"_ that is one of the most direct conversations they have ever had about it.

They don't go for ice cream Forget ice cream Jun licks Aiba's cock instead, over his balls, around his ass, with long, smooth strokes of his tongue, until Aiba's as boneless as a melted vanilla puddle.

"Does it still hurt?" Jun whispers.

Aiba shakes his head, spreads his thighs apart in invitation, and begs, "Jun!"

Jun gets tangled in the sweatpants, and in the yukata, and Aiba almost tears something throwing their clothes out of bed, but then Jun is slicking himself up, and slicking Aiba's ass, down the cleft in a wet trickle, around the opening, then pushing inside with two fingers, spreading Aiba open, working the lube in. It does still hurt, a little.

Aiba hasn't had any problem sitting and walking, but it's a little... sensitive in there, and every now and then, out of nowhere, he feels it when he moves, a shock of sensation inside where he's not used to feeling anything at all, and he thinks, That's from Jun's cock, and usually gets an inappropriate erection. Aiba was a teenaged boy for a long time, though, luckily. He is an old pro at inappropriate erections.

The little bit of hurt is worth the extra feeling. Being all sensitized means he feels it all, and it makes last time, when he felt a little overwhelmed actually, seem like he was feeling through layers of tissue or something. This time the tissue is gone. Burned up, probably, because his inner body temperature has climbed up so high from being turned on that he's shoved the blankets out of the way. It feels incredible. It feels amazing. It's like there's a secret connection inside somewhere, and all the nerves in his ass (that he never really knew about before) lighting up like fireworks every fucking time Jun touches them go straight to his cock. It's breathless and unbelievable, a little like flying. His whole body pulses to the rhythm of Jun's thrusts, like the gentle rhythm of the sea.

"Jun, Matsujun, yes yes yes," he chants, and Jun twists his hips and Aiba feels it to his toes, Jun's cock moving inside him, nudging just a little bit - _oh._

"Fuck," Aiba mumbles.

He hears Jun agree, "Fuck," sounding amused, but Aiba doesn't lift his face out of the pillow to see. "We have to go home tomorrow."

Now that really _is_ something to say fuck about. "Fuck," Aiba says again. He pulls his face out of the pillow a little so he can talk. "I'm going to miss it here," he says.

Jun sighs deeply. It seems like the silence stretches a little too long before he agrees, "Me too."

  
[ § § § ]  


  
Jun wakes Aiba up in the middle of the night. "Wha?" Aiba mumbles, and his mouth is slow and clumsy. He's tucked in under the blanket, with one arm and one leg lying on top of Jun. Jun sleeps with dignity, and Aiba's advances don't seem to make any impression on him; he just accepts them, lies tranquilly with Aiba draped all over him like he doesn't even notice it. Aiba has his suspicions about that, though.

Jun has already said whatever it was and he missed it. "What?" he says again.

"It's not important," Jun mutters, but Aiba knows when Jun doesn't mean what he says, and there's definitely a petulant note in that.

"No, what, I'm listening," says Aiba, "sorry, what time is it?"

"I don't know." There's a little silence, and Aiba wakes up just enough - with that clear, sleepy clarity - to open his eyes and see Jun propping his head on his hand. "About three in the morning. Masaki - do you really like... surfing?"

Aiba blinks slowly. "Of course, Jun-chan. I really, really love surfing, especially now. It's - my favorite." Aiba is motionless, but he realizes that his heartbeat is speeding up.

Jun's big eyes shine wetly at him in the dark, and Jun's pretty face is smooth and still, pensive. He fidgets with the edge of the blanket and says, low, "Favorite - yeah. Me, too."


End file.
